Chapter 29 - A Night of Counting Stars (3)

"When the hell is that thing going home?"

"Who knows? How should I know what the Privy Council is thinking?"

"What does the Privy Council have to do with it? That ship belongs to Naval Command!"

The elves who had begun perfectly ordinary student lives were, at present, in turmoil. Even elves brimming with self-esteem and drunk on national pride had their limits. Now they were grinding their teeth, caught between secondhand embarrassment and the humans' quiet contempt.

On the first day the warship floated overhead, the elf students had proudly puffed out their chests, saying:

["Look! How fucking awesome are we? We can park a warship right in the middle of a human capital, and all they can do is stand around watching!"]

But a week later, this remarkable people who had brought a warship to an entrance ceremony began to feel a little uneasy.

'Still, even if this is an age when nobody needs warships, is it really okay to leave it there...?'

Their fear bordered on survival instinct. After all, deploying a weapon of war in another nation's capital was an enormous military provocation. And although there wasn't even a one-in-ten-thousand chance of it happening, if that provocation did lead to war, they would change classes from students to prisoners in an instant.

There were no Geneva Conventions in this uncivilized, premodern fantasy world. Of course, prisoners weren't openly executed in border disputes between the United Kingdoms, and surely no one would behead the sons and daughters of noble houses who had come all this way to study abroad. But that only held in a world where "common sense" applied.

In other words, merely imagining what a human kingdom devoid of common sense—or so the elves believed—might do if it ran amok was enough to make their survival instincts twitch.

Finally, another week passed, bringing the total to a fortnight. Gazing up at their proud aerial battleship, still hanging in the sky, the elves at last displayed their racial traits.

They were pioneers of civilization, parliamentary politics, and democracy under a constitutional monarchy. And so, true to their racial traits, they finally formed political parties. In other words, the factional squabbling began.

The elf students split into the Privy Council Faction and the Naval Command Faction and launched a civil war. (Civil war was another of their racial traits.)

Of course, whoever seized the crown among them couldn't resolve the situation. Electing a first-year student president wouldn't make a perfectly good warship say, "Oh my, congratulations," and sail home.

In any case. Contempt and threats from humans outside. Cordial elven politics within. And above, that warship, offering not a word of communication, simply floating in the sky.

In this turbulent age, when peace had become a vulgar joke, a gardener and a young human nobleman visited the elf students' dormitory. This was the day after Dmitry had cautiously handed Ivan his "orders."

* * *

Let us turn back to the previous day. Specifically, the evening Elizaveta decided she ought to take an axe to the elf captain's neck.

Dmitry headed for the orphanage whose pockets he lined every year with money he personally filched from the royal treasury and thoroughly laundered.

Since Elizaveta was, at heart, a shy young girl—his personal opinion—this had all been done without Ivan's knowledge. In short, Dmitry had reigned as the orphanage's largest donor. He had vaguely passed it off as "courtesy to a retired officer" or "looking after a lieutenant colonel who retired without a military pension." Still, wasn't his hand the one slipping over the money?

"Oh, hello there, children!"

"..."

Dmitry crossed the grounds, giving friendly smiles to the creepy students who moved with suspicious silence. It felt like walking the corridors of Counterintelligence Command's correctional facility for political prisoners. Mainly because watchers stood silently observing him at the edges of his vision.

"I wouldn't dream of interfering with my esteemed senior's private hobbies, but doesn't this fall within the bounds of insurrection?"

How had he even come up with the idea of collecting orphans to use as field agents?

Rubbing the back of his neck where a chill had settled, Dmitry made his way to the director's office.

RRRIP. RRRIP.

Past a soldier from Droan who was doing something brutal to the laundry with suspicious noises. Then past an unfamiliar teacher in a strange hat being beaten up by a gang of children.

"Are you in, sir?"

"You used the door today."

Opening the director's office door revealed the same astonishingly bleak interior as ever, and Ivan beyond it. He was rifling through a pile of documents, his eyes cold.

"What is it?"

"Ah, um. You have a guest?"

"Oh, you're a friend of the boss! Don't mind me. Go right ahead!"

"... Boss...?"

Astonishingly, his senior appeared to have acquired a much younger little brother of sorts. After staring at the cheerful young man's face for some time, Dmitry snapped his fingers. No wonder he looked familiar. Dmitry knew that face.

"Lord Karamzin! Goodness, fancy meeting you here!"

"No need for 'Lord.' I'm just a student! Please, don't be so formal!"

High society's worst troublemaker abruptly enrolling in theological studies had caused quite a stir around Prizhenkaya for a time. Wasn't he the youngest son of House Karamzin, which had produced a fair few military generals? And someone like that was calling his senior—who had never shown any interest in politics—"Boss"...?

As Dmitry's eyes sharpened, Ivan tapped the desk.

"Yevgeny. Wait outside."

"Yes, Boss! Take your time! I'll go do some volunteer work!"

"Keep track of how many pieces of laundry Morde ruins."

"Yes, Boss!"

With the smile of a court sycophant, Eugene backed out of the director's office. Dmitry watched blankly, then tilted his head.

"Your tastes have certainly changed, sir. Didn't you used to hate that sort...?"

"He's a good kid."

"Come to think of it, you look a little better, too. Lady Enrique never disappoints."

Ivan gave the desk two heavy taps. Impatient as ever. Grinning, Dmitry drew a letter from inside his coat.

"From Colonel Kirillovna...?"

"She's the Palace Minister, I keep telling you. Anyway, um. It's a complicated situation. And you're the only one who can handle it."

Dmitry handed him the letter and sprawled on the sofa.

"With all the money I give you every year, couldn't you buy a more expensive sofa?"

Ignoring him, Ivan read the letter, then frowned deeply. This was rather a big job.

"Is she serious?"

"Does our Princess seem like someone who would joke about this?"

Infiltrate the Kallion warship floating above Jansk University and threaten its captain. At the same time, avoid casualties among the crew as far as possible.

"Why?"

"Ah, that's a little complicated."

Dmitry frowned. Where should he begin?

"It seems that warship has suffered some sort of mechanical failure. However crazy those pointy-ears are, they wouldn't keep up a military provocation in our capital for over a fortnight. They have no reason to."

"And?"

"So we're going to use the opportunity to hook our Foreign Minister... His Highness Alexander."

Dmitry slowly straightened. All humor drained from his face, leaving the face of a lieutenant colonel, an internal inspector of Counterintelligence Command's Investigations Bureau.

"Kallion knows full well what a shitshow our country is. And Her Highness the Princess has just paid them a personal visit to 'threaten' them."

If the warship came under a real threat now, its captain would be certain to seek an alliance with the Crown Prince. That was why she had provoked him in the first place.

"We need to catch His Highness the Crown Prince making contact with the elves. Something we can use to implicate him in a military coup using their warship."

"Drastic."

"Everything Her Highness does is."

"Is that the only objective?"

"Of course not. When have we ever worked that way?"

Dmitry rose with a nasty smile.

"We're going to seize the Kallion warship, denouncing those pointy-ears for daring to aim their guns right at the royal castle of our great Krasilof. We're already prepared to declare that they conspired with His Highness the Crown Prince to overthrow the throne, then send an official letter of protest to Kallion's Privy Council."

"Kallion will smooth it over as a lone captain going rogue. And in exchange..."

"They'll have to authorize 'mooring' their 'totaled' warship outside Prizhenkaya for 'repairs.'"

Aerial battleships were weapons of war possessed only by Kallion. But technology, by its very nature, was always at risk of leaking. So they would seize the warship, then attempt to reverse-engineer it under the pretext of repairing the "totaled" vessel.

From Kallion's perspective, it wouldn't be an unmitigated loss. Given the cost and labor required to build a single battleship of that size, Krasilof could never maintain enough vessels to outnumber Kallion's navy.

But Krasilof desperately needed those few aerial battleships. Without an ice-free port, its maritime trade came to a complete halt in winter.

If this succeeded, the Princess would gain tremendous political justification. One plot like this wouldn't bring Alexander down, but it would expose him to a political onslaught severe enough to leave him unable to maneuver for a while.

And if she also acquired aerial battleship designs, she could sway the military, which had declared neutrality in the feud between the Crown Prince and the Princess. Naturally, those powerful weapons would end up in the military's hands.

Material gain, justification, and support. Three objectives in one operation. Even if she failed to secure the ideal outcome, the Princess would suffer no harm. Hadn't the elves been at fault for mooring a warship in front of the palace in the first place?

"It's impossible without you, sir. Every agent we can deploy has been exposed, and our undercover people aren't up to this operation."

Counterintelligence Command was the only force the Princess could mobilize in Prizhenkaya at present. Enrique didn't obey orders from the court, which left Ivan as the strongest card in her hand.

The Logging Machine. Butcher of the Seven Dragon Generals. The Great King's executioner.

"Little" Ivan.

"If this goes well, you won't need to carry on with your original operation. With His Highness the Crown Prince reduced to a political vegetable, there'll be no need to protect the dignitaries at Jansk University. If you need anything else in compensation... Um. Her Highness the Princess asked me to pass this on."

Dmitry hesitated, then spoke cautiously.

"She said... she'd offer you the position of royal consort."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Uh... Hmm. Her Highness will be hurt."

"Tell Her Highness to keep her eyes on the sky."

Ivan rose as he spoke.

* * *

"Has anything changed?"

"Yes, Boss! The wording in the 'Quest window' has changed!"

Ivan nodded at Eugene's answer. Returning to the director's office after Dmitry left, Eugene quickly wrote down the revised Quest text and handed it over.

["B-Rank Chain Quest" Intrigue at the Krasilof Court] [The Princess seeks to gain leverage over the Crown Prince and seize control of the court. Now the fate of the royal house of Krasilof rests on your choice!] [Objective: Follow the Princess's orders and prove collusion between the captain of Kallion's aerial battleship and the Crown Prince.] [Optional Objective: Survival of all aerial battleship crew members] [Optional Objective: Seize the aerial battleship] [Optional Objective: Inform Crown Prince Alexander of the entire conspiracy and advance to the next Quest in the chain] [Objective Reward: ????] [Failure Penalty: ????]

Ivan read through the note once and nodded.

"You'll be coming along on this operation."

"... What? Me?"

"I need to see how success rewards are given, and how Quests progress."

These "Quests" generally appeared before an "incident" occurred. That was only natural. They wouldn't assign an incident that had already ended as a Quest. Thus, Quests served as an early-warning system for things yet to happen.

Indeed, the Quest that had appeared before Dmitry's visit had been "Court Intrigue." It had instructed him to uncover the conspiracy surrounding the aerial battleship and undertake a mission on either the Princess's or the Crown Prince's side. In short, a "faction selection" Quest.

He hadn't finished choosing a faction, but the moment they heard the Princess's plan, the Quest's contents had changed, offering the choice of furthering the plot or betraying it.

An early-warning system that updated in real time. An extraordinarily useful resource. Ivan looked at Eugene, whose value kept rising, and thought:

'The Possessors I know are the Demon King, the hero, and myself.'

What those three shared was that each had reached the pinnacle of their respective field. And though this boy was still immature, he showed ample potential to do the same. Taking that into account...

'The other Possessors may be the same.'

What abilities did they possess? What stories did they carry? What endings would they meet? And when those endings came, in what form would they see the credits roll?

The Demon King had died, the hero had disappeared, and he was still here. What, then, of the other Possessors? When they brought their own stories to a close, would they die? Disappear? Or remain?

There was much to discover, a clear way to investigate, and a reason he needed to know.

"We'll 'persuade' Yuri and the elf named Oswald before noon tomorrow, then begin the operation tomorrow night."

"Then what should I do, Boss?"

"Help."

He ought to train this boy as an agent. Ivan nodded at the thought.